


Better Put Your Fingers Back to the Keys

by PadawanRyan



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: A little bit of plot, Actually a lot of plot, Anonymity, Chat rooms, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Infinity On High era, M/M, Mostly porny but a little fluffy, Not explicitly stated but read it as 2007, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Very brief reference to the incident at Best Buy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PadawanRyan/pseuds/PadawanRyan
Summary: His original plan was to continue meeting withchicagodrummerand ensuring that the other man wantedhimfirst before springing anything on him, but that relied onchicagodrummerbeing online and Pete being able to find him again. That could be like looking for a needle in a haystack.So, Pete needed to adapt his plan.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	Better Put Your Fingers Back to the Keys

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I originally started a draft of this fic back in like...sometime in the fall. I was inspired by this one Jonas Brothers fic I read like, a decade ago - and reread last spring after they announced their reunion - that involved using chat rooms in the middle of the night when on the road. I thought that would work especially well as a Peterick, especially due to the separate buses, but of course changed a lot of the details. However, I got about two pages into it and promptly gave up and didn't continue. I didn't feel inspired.
> 
> Well, this afternoon I suddenly felt inspired. However, I didn't want to open up and continue the one I had begun before, because I felt that one was already in the trash (figuratively). So, instead, I started a new one and continued writing all afternoon and evening - even while I ate dinner - and here we are! This is also the longest oneshot I've written in about a year - and the longest Peterick I've written in general - so I'm quite proud of the many hours I spent writing.
> 
> Now, if only I could channel that same motivation into my PhD comprehensive because that's _still_ not fucking done.

It was the middle of the night and he wasn’t even sure what he was doing.

He should be asleep – he knew that – because it was actually _later_ than the middle of the night, but since when did Pete ever actually sleep? He would hate himself in the morning for it, but he would hate himself in the morning no matter what, so why not at least give himself a reason by staying awake and trying to find _some_ sort of distraction? Pete needed to get outside of his head and the best way to do that would be to socialize — and where else might one socialize at three o’clock in the morning than the internet?

And that’s how Pete – with his laptop open on his lap and Hemmy asleep at his feet – ended up on a random chat room with a bunch of strangers.

He loved chat rooms. There was something about the anonymity that came with socializing on the internet that grounded Pete — he had to be Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy all day and even on his own LiveJournal, so it was nice to be a nameless stranger – a shadow in the void – whenever he had the chance. Chat rooms were wonderful because he could have conversations with people and never be expected to speak to them again — there was no commitment, no strings, and if he didn’t like the way things were going, he could just leave.

Perfect, right?

So, he ended up on this chat room, which was fairly populated for three in the morning, but he knew that not everyone was in the same time zone. What time zone was he even in? They were on the road, so he had lost track of time zones a long time ago.

The website prompted him for a screenname before he could participate. He typed in **_to_neverland_** without a second thought.

He noticed, even in the general chatroom, the usual plethora of conversation topics: music, television, relationships, politics. Pete wasn’t quite sure what he was in the mood to discuss, but he knew that he had to distract himself somehow, so he clicked on a separate music room and figured that at the very least, he could rave about his obsessions. After a careful moment of consideration, he typed _“bowie y/n?”_ into the chat before even looking to see what sort of discussion was already happening.

There were a few responses to his question, some which were ridiculous – _“ew isnt he gay?”_ and _“2 soft 4 me”_ – but among the positive responses, there was one that immediate captured his attention.

_“David Bowie is a musical genius and I would sell my soul for him.”_

Well, two could play at that soul-selling game. Pete grinned and typed in _“dude i wld give my left nut 4 him.”_

Almost instantaneously: _“Just the left?”_

_“well im fond of the right”_

_“Oh, far be it for me to question your preference in testicles.”_

Pete wasted no time in typing _“ya? well i cld b fond of urs 2”_ before common sense could kick in.

He wasn’t even sure that his conversation partner _had_ testicles – the screenname **_chicagodrummer_** didn’t really give him any gender information to go on – but the sentiment should nonetheless have been understood from his comment. This was what he liked: flirting with random strangers in the middle of the night with no commitment, no pressure to follow-through, using only his words to display his interest. Pete was, after all, a man of words — and there was far less pressure in these words, given out to **_chicagodrummer_** or any other random user, than there were the words of Pete Wentz, lyricist of Fall Out Boy.

His train of thought was broken by a request on his screen to open a private chat window with **_chicagodummer_**. He accepted immediately.

_“Are you flirting with me?”_

_“well that depends”_ Pete began, _“do u like it?”_

He watched as the window notified him that **_chicagodrummer_** was typing and almost laughed out loud when he saw the response, _“Do I at least get to keep both my testicles?”_

_“ya sure babe as long as u share”_

So, that answered that question: his conversation partner definitely had testicles. Well, so far as his conversation partner was saying on the internet – you couldn’t exactly trust that everyone was telling the truth – but who would even lie about having testicles? When **_chicagodrummer_** hadn’t responded, though, Pete figured he would take initiative and direct the conversation. _“so”_ he typed, _“ur from chicago?”_

_“Born and raised. I’m guessing you’re from…Neverland?”_

Pete couldn’t help laughing at that. _“no babe it says *to* neverland im also from chicago”_

_“But why would you want to go *to* Neverland? Haven’t you seen Peter Pan? Things are…hectic.”_

_“ofc but this universe sux i wnna c magic”_

_“Fair enough.”_ The other man – Pete assumed it was a man, though he knew that testicles did not necessarily mean _man_ – stopped for a moment before elaborating. _“What exactly sucks about this universe?”_

_“iunno man just lots. ppl arent very nice and im not either”_

_“Ouch, that sounds rough. I’m so sorry you have to go through that.”_

_“we do what we have 2 do”_

_“I guess, but wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t have to?” **chicagodrummer**_ asked him. That made Pete pause.

Of course it would be better if people didn’t just have to do what they do to get through life, but wasn’t that life? All his life, adults had tried to remind him that “this is the way the world works” and “that’s just life” and he had long since accepted that this was his life. Although he wasn’t quite in as dark a place anymore as that one day a couple years ago – he would never _choose_ again to end his life, no matter how depressed or apathetic he had become – he never expected that he would be truly and completely happy.

This was becoming a little too personal, but he couldn’t stop. He spilled his guts to **_chicagodrummer_** in a way that he hadn’t in a long time, even to Patrick because although Patrick was his best friend, there were just some things he couldn’t tell him — he knew already that Patrick would never want him, but there was no point in scaring him away from being Pete’s friend too, right?

It almost didn’t occur to him until the light from outside came through his window that they had been talking for hours. _“holy fuck its 5 y r u still up?”_

_“Well, why are you still up?”_

The question was fair enough, but it took Pete another minute to compose his answer. _“just had to unload i guess”_

_“You just needed to unload. I needed to be here for you to unload. That’s why I’m still up.”_

Pete was…touched. This was a total stranger, someone who had never spoken to him before and didn’t even know _who_ he was, and yet he had…stayed up all night (or morning) with Pete because _Pete_ needed it.

_“thx man i rly appreciate it”_

_“You can go back to calling me ‘babe’ if you want,” **chicagodrummer**_ responded abruptly. _“I don’t mind.”_

Was he…flirting with Pete? Even after hearing how dark Pete’s thoughts were?

_“r u flirting w/ me?”_

The irony of asking the same question that **_chicagodrummer_** had asked him a couple hours earlier had not been missed by Pete. He was actually starting to feel a little tired – he knew that he could probably manage to get an hour or two of sleep before he was awaken by Patrick storming in from his bus to get Pete’s ass out of bed – but his conversation partner of the past two hours was _flirting_ with him. How could he be expected to go to bed now? Patrick would just have to deal with him being sleepy throughout the day — he’d wake up before their show in the evening and everything would be fine in the end.

_“That depends,”_ he read, recognizing his same words from earlier, _“do you like it?”_

Yes, yes he did. So, he said as much. _“fuck ya omg i thot id scare u away”_

_“You could never scare me away.”_

_“u wldnt say that if u actually knew me tho”_

His conversation partner seemed to be typing for a while before a response finally appeared on his screen. _“Why, are you into some kinky shit?”_

Pete laughed, loud enough to disturb Hemmy from his sleep. “Oh, sorry boy,” he told the dog before turning back to his computer screen. _“depends”_

_“On what?”_

_“on whether or not ur gnna b a good boy 4 me”_

_“What will you do to me if I’m not?”_

Pete grinned as he typed out, _“restrain u n tease u n make u whimper n beg 4 it”_

He was almost scared that this was what was going to kill the conversation. Sure, **_chicagodrummer_** had been flirting with him, but maybe this was going too far? While Pete usually had no problem with these random anonymous chats coming to an end – no commitment, remember? – this one had actually been…meaningful. He wasn’t sure he was ready to ever stop talking to **_chicagodrummer_**. The other man understood him better than anyone else now and had been…totally accepting of his flaws and still wanted him.

Or, so **_chicagodrummer_** said, anyway. People could lie on the internet.

_“Fuck, yes please.”_

Okay, so apparently he hadn’t overstepped. _“ill suck ur cock slowly first then faster n every time u get close to the edge im gnna pull off”_

_“God, yes.”_

_“is ur hand on ur cock rn?”_

_“Yes,”_ his conversation partner confirmed. _“What do you want me to do?”_

_“jerk urself slowly then faster but dont cum”_

_“Is that all?”_

_“suck ur finger on ur other hand. get it nice n wet n finger urself w/ it”_ Pete told him, the scene playing out in his mind. He could imagine it was him with **_chicagodrummer_** , with his hand on his cock and his finger pumping in and out of the other man.

_“Oh god, oh yes, please”_ comes the response a minute later.

_“ur fingering urself?”_

_“Yes.”_

He was so glad he decided to stay awake for this. He might not even go to sleep at all — that would piss Patrick off even more than finding out that Pete had barely slept, but it was a little late for that. He couldn’t exactly go back in time and choose not to spend all morning chatting with **_chicagodrummer_** , after all. Pete’s hand was on his own cock and he continued typing out instructions to his conversation partner, hoping that the other man actually listening to Pete instead of just saying he was to placate him. His conversation partner _seemed_ engaged – he was begging just as Pete told him he would – and god, but if that didn’t make Pete so fucking hot. He wasn’t going to last very longer.

_“Please, please let me cum,” **chicagodrummer**_ continued to beg of him.

_“ok”_ Pete finally conceded. _“u can cum now”_

He waited a minute before sending another message, giving **_chicagodrummer_** time to come down from his orgasm. _“did u cum?”_ he asked.

_“Yes,”_ his conversation partner confirmed again.

_“good now stick ur fingers in it n lick them clean, taste urself n what i did 2 u”_

When he received confirmation that **_chicagodrummer_** had indeed done what he requested, Pete couldn’t help it: he came. Just the thought of him licking his own cum off his fingers was too much, it pushed him right over the edge. Of course, he didn’t know what **_chicagodrummer_** even looked like, but could he be blamed if when he imagined this situation, it was Patrick he was imagining? God, he would do anything to be able to do this with Patrick.

_“fuck i just came 2 that was 2 good”_

_“Yeah, that was actually exactly what I needed tonight…today. We should do that again sometime.”_

_“ya totally!”_ Pete responded enthusiastically, despite knowing it was unlikely that he’d ever speak to **_chicagodrummer_** again.

_“But in the meantime,”_ the other man began, _“I need to go shower before I wake up my bandmate.”_

Oh? Pete’s interest was piqued.

_“ur in a band? lemme guess ur the drummer”_

_“Actually, I’m the singer. It’s weird. But I am a drummer, I originally wanted to be the drummer.”_

This story was familiar…a little too familiar, if anyone were to ask Pete. Everything from originally wanting to be the drummer to even having to wake up his bandmate…it couldn’t be, though. He wouldn’t _possibly_ be spending his morning getting off with anonymous strangers too, could he? Pete couldn’t ask, though — he was afraid that if he asked, it might scare **_chicagodrummer_** away, and if he scared **_chicagodrummer_** away, that could also mean scaring his best friend away if he was right.

_“dont shower”_ Pete demanded with a sudden thought popping into his head. _“i want ur bandmate 2 smell what u did 2 urself”_

_“Fuck.”_

Then, _“Okay. It’s not like he has any room to judge.”_

Pete, however – after they said their goodbyes – was going to shower. It would be one thing – if he was correct – for Patrick to walk around smelling like sex, but if Pete did too, everyone was going to assume something had happened between them. Even though it did — or well, Pete hoped that **_chicagodrummer_** – and how did he not get that from the screenname – was Patrick and that something _did_ happen between them. He was already sitting at the table, dressed with his hair straightened, by the time Patrick swung open the door of his bus a couple hours later, radiating sex as though he had done more than just jerk himself off.

Oh, and that smell.

Perfect.

That was all the confirmation he needed. He spent his morning flirting with – _fucking_ , essentially – Patrick Stump. God, this was the best day of his life.

“Wow,” Patrick remarked. “I didn’t expect you to already be up.”

Pete grinned. “Yeah, well, I mean — Patrick! Did you get lucky last night?”

The other man blushed. “No, I…” he began, muttering. “Shut up. Go wake Joe and get your ass out the door. You could’ve already done that.”

He gave Patrick a salute before the younger man retreated and thought about how much fun he was going to have with this. Pete was devious sometimes but he was also impulsive and had no patience, so there was no way he was going to be able to draw this out for days — his original plan was to continue meeting with **_chicagodrummer_** and ensuring that the other man wanted _him_ first before springing anything on him, but that relied on **_chicagodrummer_** being online and Pete being able to find him again. That could be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

So, Pete needed to adapt his plan.

And, as they went through the motions during the day to prepare for their show in the evening, Pete came up with a perfect way to do it. He was even more touchy-feely with his best friend than usual, constantly bumping into him “by accident” or leaning in close to whisper to him more than usual. Initially it didn’t seem to be affecting Patrick that much – he made no indication that anything was out of the ordinary – but by soundcheck, Pete could see the sharp intakes of breath from the younger man every time Pete got too close.

They would still have a couple more hours until the show began after soundcheck, so Pete decided to make his move then — when they were practicing _Saturday_ and Pete leaned into Patrick like he always did, he turned his head to the side. His lips made very brief contact with Patrick’s neck and he felt the other man tense up immediately. Patrick was glaring at him when Pete pulled away and went about the rest of the song as usual, but Pete could tell that Patrick wasn’t angry at what he had _done_.

Rather, Patrick was angry that Pete hadn’t done _more_.

Or, so he hoped.

He could never know for sure what was going through the younger man’s head. So, he was almost on his toes in anticipation when, after the song, instead of continuing the set, Patrick asked, “Pete, a word?”

Pete followed him off the stage and around the corner, only stopping when Patrick led them into an empty room. “Okay, Pete, what the _hell_ was—”

Patrick didn’t get to finish his sentence because Pete had grabbed Patrick’s arms and pushed him against the wall, holding them above his head. The younger man took a sharp breath and wiggled a bit, and _oh yes_ , he was definitely turned on.

“Pete,” he tried again, “what—”

“You like being restrained, huh?” the older man asked, voice so low that Pete wasn’t even sure he said it out loud.

The younger man stared him directly in the eyes and gulped. Fuck, Pete was already hard.

“Pete,” Patrick began again. “What are—what are you doing?”

“I’m flirting with you, babe,” he explained, as though the answer was simple. “Do you like it?”

He then leaned in and pressed his lips again to Patrick’s neck, sucking lightly and listening as his best friend squeaked. Pete wanted to cover him in hickeys and make sure everyone knew who Patrick belonged to, but now was not that time — not when they had a show to play in just a couple hours. No, Pete would do that another time when they had no deadlines, nothing to stop them, but for right now, he would be content enough with the one. He nibbled a bit as he sucked, and Patrick gasped just before Pete pulled off and immediately went to his knees.

“Pete, Pete,” Patrick panted. “ _Please_.”

“Patience, ’Trick.”

Pete pulled down Patrick’s pants and let his hard cock spring out. God, he could worship that cock, but first he needed Patrick to worship _his mouth_.

So, he took the head into his mouth and sucked on it gently. Patrick whined, and Pete was certain that he was _already_ begging, but Pete still had much more to do. He made his way down the length of the shaft slowly, savouring the taste of Patrick on his tongue, and when he reached Patrick’s balls, began to retreat even slower than he had gone down. The _sounds_ he could hear from the younger man — it sounded like Patrick was crying as his hands came to the back of Pete’s head and attempted to push him down again.

Pete popped off abruptly. “Hands behind your back,” he instructed. “Keep yourself restrained.”

The other man nodded and put his hands behind his back, so Pete took the hard cock back into his mouth. He continued just as he had before – painfully slow and soliciting whines from Patrick – before speeding up a bit, just as he told **_chicagodrummer_** he would do to him. Patrick was moaning and begging, and Pete could just _die_ in that moment from being so happy. As Patrick became more vocal, Pete figured that he must be close, so again as he had promised **_chicagodrummer_** , he pulled right off because Patrick could reach orgasm.

“Pete, what…” Patrick struggled to get actual words out.

Pete grinned up at him deviously, noting how incredibly _wrecked_ Patrick already looked from an unfinished blowjob. “I said _patience_ , ’Trick.”

And before the other man could say anything more, Pete resumed devouring his cock.

It continued on like this for a little way. Every time Patrick would come close to the edge, Pete would retreat and wait a moment for Patrick to deflate before resuming. He knew eventually that it wouldn’t last much longer – he was getting closer and closer to Patrick being unable to hold back – so the final time he pulled off – to more begging from Patrick for Pete not to stop – he replaced his mouth with his hand and just _jerked_. It didn’t take very long — within seconds, Patrick was crying out and cumming hard into the hand that Pete still had wrapped around the sensitive head of his cock.

“ _Fuck_ , Pete, what the _fuck?_ ” Patrick asked as he began coming down from his orgasm.

“Not yet,” Pete told him as he rose back to his feet. He was wiggling his fingers, still covered in Patrick’s cum.

Holding the fingers to Patrick’s mouth, he commanded, “suck.”

And Patrick did.

And _fuck_ , it was _so fucking hot_.

Pete couldn’t help it — he was already so close just from sucking Patrick off, but Patrick sucking on him, tasting and swallowing _his own cum_ as his tongue swirled around Pete’s fingers, did it for him. He came right then and there, right in his pants, _untouched_.

“Patrick,” he breathed out, leaning his forehead into the younger man’s. “ _Fuck_.”

The other man nodded. “Yeah, ‘fuck’ is just about right.”

Pete chuckled and connected his mouth to the younger man’s, who parted his lips immediately to let in Pete’s tongue. He could taste Patrick – his tongue, his spit, _his cum_ – and began to kiss more hungrily, wanting nothing more than to take everything he possibly could from the other man. Patrick seemed to be on the same page, so it wasn’t until both men needed air that they parted. They were both breathing heavy, still so close to one another’s face, when Pete finally opened his mouth to say, “you were a very good boy for me.”

Patrick’s eyes had been closed for the last minute or so, but he opened them when Pete spoke. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Pete confirmed. “We should do that again sometime.”

This time Patrick smiled and chuckled — it seemed like he had finally caught on. “Yeah,” he agreed, “totally.”

They had to clean themselves up soon as best they could for the concert, which was actually one of the best Pete had played in a while — having gotten off with Patrick beforehand really calmed him down to the point where he could relax throughout the entire show. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but goddamn, they were definitely going to have to make that a regular thing. Of course, that relied on Patrick actually following through on that whole “doing that again” sometime promise — Pete trusted him, but well, he knew they were going to have to talk about it eventually. However, the smiles that Patrick shot him throughout the show were reassuring Pete that talking about it was certainly not going to have any negative consequences.

Both men were too tired to do anything more that night – plus, doing anything on either bus meant coming out about it to Joe and Andy, which was something they would definitely have to discuss when they got around to it – so they parted ways after the show and after meeting with some fans out back. Pete wasn’t sure if Patrick had slept that morning in the hours between signing offline and storming onto Pete’s bus, but Pete sure hadn’t. So, Pete went to bed easily and surprisingly, actually managed to sleep almost straight through the night.

When he awoke in the morning and opened his laptop, he realized that he had left the chat website open from the previous morning. He hadn’t even closed the private chat with **_chicagodrummer_** , apparently.

And there was a new message from the other man.

_“You forgot to finger me.”_

Pete didn’t even notice that **_chicagodrummer_** was still online as he typed out and sent as a response, _“sry babe next time”_

So, he was taken aback when he received an almost instant response from his conversation partner — and one that had him semi-hard within seconds. _“Next time, *you* will listen to *me* as I show you how it’s done.”_

And goddamn, if Pete wasn’t already anticipating it.

_“just b nice ok? luv u”_

_“People aren’t very nice, Pete. And I’m not either.”_

Those words had Pete gulping. He was pretty sure, based on Patrick’s personality, that he could actually be pretty dominant in bed, so while Pete had dominated their previous sexual interactions, he couldn’t help but want to get to his knees and beg for Patrick. However, that line of thought immediately disappeared and panic set in when Pete realized exactly what he had said to Patrick — he told the younger man that he loved him. They hadn’t even talked about it yet, what if Patrick just wanted to be friends with benefits? Would Pete even _be able_ to be friends with benefits with Patrick? The man he had been in love with for years?

He let out a relieved breath when he noticed **_chicagodrummer_** ’s next message come in.

_“Love you too, idiot. Now get up.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Just for clarification: the only reason Patrick and Pete have different typing styles here is so that you can differentiate between them when it's not stated who typed what.
> 
> I'm **padawanryan** on [Tumblr](http://padawanryan.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/PadawanRyan), and [Instagram](http://www.instagram.com/padawanryan) if you want to follow me anywhere. ✌️


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